


Unto This Man

by Cammerel



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Harry is still a Kingsman, Lee never became a Kingsman but still died, M/M, Rape, Rentboy Eggsy Unwin, This takes place around the time the first movie did, for those that can't read Archive Warnings...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/Cammerel
Summary: You and your soulmate can see and hear one another in mirrors.Literally the most fucking gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his entire life has just seen him at his absolute worst. Eggsy is aware he’s not hard on the eyes, that’s partly why he is where he is. But while he’s cleaning up from a beating? Really?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ****Warnings for future chapters:**  
>  There is a rape scene, it’s not between Hartwin, but it’s a bit graphic.  
> There is also violence and abuse. None of it between Hartwin.

Every bone in his body aches.

Stiffly walking up the steps to his flat takes three times longer than it should and every second step is met with an uncomfortable squash of what Eggsy knows isn’t water, but blood, steadily filling his sneaker.

He glances back after himself to make sure he isn’t leaving tracks, but even that movement requires the turning of nearly his entire body, back and torso groaning in pain at any shift of his spine.

Once the door is unlocked, he walks past his mum and his sis, not saying a word to either of them and closing his bedroom door when she starts shouting after him. He locks it, walks into the small bathroom and flicks on the light before carefully stripping off his jacket.

Eggsy knows he looks rough, he doesn’t need a mirror to confirm that for him. What he /is/ concerned about is his nose, and the jagged cut into his left eyebrow, and maybe the broken molar on the right side of his bruising jaw.

Checking his mouth after he spits out the pieces, he rinses his hands off and prepares for the worst first.

He stares into the mirror for a long time, testing his nose, mindful of the possibilities. It hurts, he’s got two pieces of tissue stuffed up to stop the bleeding, but he concludes that it isn’t broken just yet.

Finally he reaches out to the kit on the toilet seat, bringing it up and opening it to sift through for what he needs.

He looks back up once he has a clean cloth, gingerly scrubbing away the blood. In mid swipe, sound fills his ears and his reflection quickly morphs into something else.

Instead of the yellow walls of his bathroom, he’s immediately taken aback by the soft pastel pink and the horridly attractive older man standing on the other side, outlined by shadowboxes of colorful butterflies.

Eggsy frowns in confusion, glancing around it. Though startled and thrown off, he knows what’s just happened. But he doesn’t understand. There is no one else in the reflection but the sharply dressed, stunning gentleman staring back at him.

/No way./

There’s no way this is his soulmate.

The man blinks back at him, looking concerned as he moves in and touches the glass tentatively.

“My goodness.”

Eggsy pulls back, realizing what he must look like to this man. He rushes out of the bathroom, hurriedly closing the door and throwing himself against it.

/God./

Literally the most fucking gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his entire life has just seen him at his absolute worst. Eggsy is aware he’s not hard on the eyes, that’s partly why he is where he is. But while he’s cleaning up from a beating? Really?

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” he mutters under his breath, and then he hurries back into the bathroom and throws a towel over the mirror before the man /still/ looking back at him can say anything more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic scene coming up...

After that day, he avoids mirrors when he’s outside of his home. It isn’t difficult, but when a bloke wants him to come home with him, he charges extra mostly for the anxiety. Who knows what kinds of mirrors they have? Thankfully, none on the ceiling so far.

Eggsy waits on the corner with the others, hands tucked in his jeans and only barely glances up when the car stops close to him and the window rolls down.

“Care for a lift?”

Eggsy meets the man’s eyes, reading them quietly before he shoves off the wall and walks up to the door. He climbs in and he holds out his hand, “If yer taking me to your ‘ouse, I charge extra for that.”

“You charge extra for anything else?”

Eggsy shakes his head, “Nah, ‘less you wanna do som’fin really freaky, no’ really.”

The man looks him over heatedly before starting the car, “Drop the confidence.”

Eggsy lifts a brow, but he doesn’t care one way or another if /that’s/ what gets this guy’s rocks off, “A-alright,” he feigns and looks away, pretending to shift awkwardly. And then there’s a hand on his cock. He’s not surprised, but he gasps, earning a groan from the older man. /Christ, everyone’s got something./

“That’s right, little one. You can call me ‘daddy’.”

He nearly laughs, /god this man is textbook/. He ain’t green, there were other boys on the corner a lot younger than him. But, well, he’s had worse.

The sex isn’t all that bad. A bit slow for his taste, but he stays in bed afterwards and the man doesn’t complain.

No, he doesn’t complain about Eggsy staying. He complains about Eggsy leaving.

He’s barely got both feet in his jeans, pulling them up when the man comes up behind him and grabs the back of his neck.

“Where you goin’, pretty little boy?”

“Uh…” Eggsy tenses, “Well, it’s been a couple hours now and-”

“Not ‘ad enough here?” the man growls, “Fuckin’ slut.”

/That’s… sort of the idea, yeah./

“Mouthy little thing, aren’t you?”

Eggsy hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.

He swallows, glancing back, “If you want me again, that’s extra.”

“Of course it is.”

He doesn’t see it coming, the fist hitting him hard on the cheekbone, and then the second one. But he sees the third and ducks out of the way.

He runs for the door, a door, any door - the bathroom door, as it turns out.

Eggsy barely makes it halfway through and to the window before he’s grabbed and slung around by his waist. All of the air escapes him when he hits the counter.

The man shoves his underwear back down, grabbing him and taking him quickly despite his attempts to push away.

He tries to look back, “Stop, n-” the man hits him, then holds him against the surface of the mirror and spits in his face.

Eggsy winces, hissing in pain as his hip digs into the counter, the man thrusting into him with haggard breaths. He shuts his eyes, trying to slow his racing heart, reaching blindly for anything he can use to defend himself.

The man stops him, wrapping the arm he was using to hold Eggsy in place around his torso and pulling him back from the glass. His hand grabs Eggsy’s throat, pulling him into each thrust and Eggsy scrambles to try and get air, to do anything to throw him off.

He’s on his toes, he has nothing for footing, he’s seeing double, but he opens his eyes and glares, glancing in his periphery, but all he can see is the man’s large hairy arm. And then he cums.

Eggsy feels a tear slide down his cheek before he’s shoved away, back into the counter, and the man leaves the bathroom.

“Clean up and get the fuck out.”

He shudders when the door is slammed and he collects his breath, turning on the water and wetting his face. Resting his hands on the circle of the sink bowl, he glances up and stills, his stomach lurching when he sees the cold, stone face staring back at him.

/Oh… god./

Eggsy can’t even imagine what he looks like now, how he appears. He doesn’t know how long their connection has been established, but there’s no way the gorgeous man in the mirror didn’t see at least some of what happened.

He feels sick.

“Darling-”

“Don’ even fuckin’ say that to me,” Eggsy manages out hoarsely, “Don’t.” he starts to leave.

“I beg of you to stay.”

Eggsy stops, stares at the man and his perfect hair and his perfect glasses and his perfect suit, and he hates. He hates all of it.

“Why?” the man starts to open his perfect mouth, but Eggsy cuts him off, “Garbage out,” he says and leaves hurriedly. He grabs his things and dresses as he walks out on the man that he came here with, but not before he’s collected his pay.


	3. Chapter 3

Eggsy doesn’t go home with men after that. As much as he’d like to quit standing on that corner entirely, he can’t afford to do it.

But it /does/ push him to spend what little free time he has applying to places around the area. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of work going around, and what jobs normally /do/ open up are quickly filled by someone that already knows someone else working there.

He can’t stop thinking of the man in the mirror, his soulmate. That look. That murderous look on his face. He’s never seen a man look like that before, not in real life, at least.

Eggsy still isn’t sure if the look was directed at himself or the other guy. Either way, it had an impact.

His own curiosity doesn’t stop him from keeping away from mirrors and keeping the bathroom one covered, but he’s sometimes tempted. And then he remembers why he’s doing it in the first place.

A couple months pass without incident.

And then he takes a walk about one late night to get away from Dean. None of his mates are up this time of night, so he instead stops by the local park and sits on one of the benches, staring out into the cold night and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the voice from behind him.

“My dear boy.”

Eggsy turns and groans, “For fuck’s sake,” he’d honestly forgotten about the soul-mirrors set up in public locations. Partly for convenience, partly because people love public reactions to first time meetings.

He wants to turn back, but he already has nowhere to go. He was /supposed/ to have escaped, off into nowhere. And now here he was.

“If you’d like to leave again,” the man holds out his hand as if offering it up.

Eggsy turns on the bench, cheeks pinkened from the cold, “What’s the point?” he asks in annoyance, “Can’t get no peace anywheres, what’s it matter?”

The startlingly attractive man smiles sadly, “I could leave, if you want some peace. I was only just reading.”

“Readin’?”

“Something light, before bed.”

“Thought rich people read in bed, not… wherever you are in your house.”

His smile widens into a charmed look, causing Eggsy’s heart to race… or stop, he’s not entirely sure which.

“One does not read in bed if they want a proper night’s sleep.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy asks, raising his brows, “Why’s that?”

“A place of rest should not be associated with something as complex as a story. Same for the telly, same for a meal.”

Eggsy wants to pick more at the man, but god how is he so fucking charming and perfect and fucking gorgeous right before going to sleep? At two in the morning, as well.

“Might it be too much to ask for your name?”

Eggsy stops shifting his hands in his pockets, narrowing his eyes, “Why? Want to know ‘oo to report to the coppers?”

“Hardly,” the man doesn’t miss a beat, “We’ve seen eachother on only three occasions and I still don’t know what to call you.”

“Call me ‘garbage’, it don’t matter.”

The man frowns, he still looks just as attractive, “Nonsense. You’re my soulmate, and it happens to matter a great deal to me.”

“‘Ow about I don’ tell you my name an’ we jus’ keep talkin’ like we was a moment ago, eh?”

“Very well,” the stupidly gorgeous man says after a moment, “So long as you promise not to leave so soon.”

“Like I said, I don’t much got nowhere’s to go anyway,” Eggsy shrugs, “So what are you readin’? Some posh book or some-” he stops talking when the man lifts the cover. He would’ve expected not to know the title, but then he laughs aloud, “Really? Thought you was sayin’ ‘light’ readin’.”

“This is light.”

“Figured you’d be readin’ some sort of posh book by some posh author that taught at some posh school or som’fin like that.”

The man doesn’t look offended, just smiles back at him.

Eggsy chuckles some more, shifting his feet, “I ain’t read the books, but I imagine they gotta be at least thriller-y like the first _Jurassic Park_ movie, yeah?”

“A bit.”

“So ‘ow is that light?”

“In my life, anything that I already know the end to is ‘light’.”

Eggsy watches him, finally allowing himself to take in the cardigan, the trousers, even now he looks more sharply dressed than Eggsy has been in his entire life, “For me, ‘light’ readin’ consists of ‘The Hungry Caterpillar’ an’ ‘Brown Bear Brown Bear’.”

The man’s eyes widen slightly, “You look terribly young to be a father.”

“No,” Eggsy says immediately, laughing, “Gawd no, no. No. No. No… uh, my-... my b-baby sis.”

“Oh, very good.”

“Yeah, no,” Eggsy shakes his head, “She’s… she’s three now. Smart little monster.”

Those brown eyes shine in a way Eggsy hasn’t seen them do just yet and his heart throbs against his ribcage, “You sound quite taken with her.”

“I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t.”

“You take care of her yourself?”

Eggsy shakes his head, “Nah, it’s me an’ me mum, an’ ‘er… well, Dean.”

He’s pretty good at reading people, still, he would’ve missed the man’s tense shoulders if he wasn’t staring at him all unblinking and fixated.

“Dean,” he says calmly, “The man you were-”

“No, no, no, no,” Eggsy starts saying, closing his eyes tightly, “Thankfully, ‘e’s not one for blokes.”

They both go into a soft, companionable silence after that, staring at one another. The older man watches him with an adoration Eggsy doesn’t deserve, not by any means. It’s almost unnerving. It would be, if it didn’t make him feel like a teenage girl.

“About that,” Eggsy says then and he sees the man’s gaze darken, “Look, I’m sorry you ‘ad to see that. I… don’t really know what all you saw, but it-” was he really about to say something akin to ‘it wasn’t what it looked like’? Really? “-I’m just gonna say it like it is, okay? We both know what you are an’ we both know what I am. That’s what I am, that’s what I do.”

“I doubt you’re in the business to be beaten and raped.”

Eggsy pales, looking away and speaking lowly, “It’s all kinda rapin’, really.”

He hears the gasp, then looks back at the sad eyes, at the hand clutched on the book still in the man’s lap.

“Doesn’t make much of a difference,” Eggsy shrugs, “Point is, ‘e paid for it.”

“I suppose so,” the man says calmly, although his voice is cold, “Or he will, in the least.”

Eggsy lifts a brow. Just what the /hell/ does that mean?

He doesn’t ask. He honestly doesn’t mind a little bit of the whiteknighting, even though he really doesn’t need it from some rich old man.

“I must apologize, but I need to get some shut eye,” the man says then, “I’ve got an early flight tomorrow. Might I ask of you… a favor?”

Eggsy glances around and shrugs, “Uh, sure.”

“Uncover the mirror.”

He tenses.

“I still see it, you know,” the man enlightens him, “I see you moving just under the ends sometimes. I would like to talk to you. I…”

Eggsy waits, watching him, watching the saddened expression as it comes back.

“Well, since we’re being honest,” he smiles, a small, sad little thing, “I’m afraid I thought you were dead. Or, rather, that was my conclusion.”

At first, Eggsy doesn’t know why. He almost asks as much. And then he realizes.

This man has gone… what? Forty or some-odd years and had never seen his soulmate in a mirror. Not when others see them sometimes as early as five, not normally any later than mid-twenties.

“I…” Eggsy feels slightly ashamed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“It’s quite alright,” the man assures him, “And though of the three times we’ve seen one another, on two occasions I was alarmed to see you in pain, I was still just delighted to know that you were alive. I would prefer to outweigh the negative with positive, if you don’t mind terribly.”

“Uh, nah, I… I guess I don’t mind.”

“My name is Harry Hart,” Eggsy hadn’t been expecting to know his name, but, well, there it was, “You don’t have to-”

“Eggsy,” Eggsy says immediately, “Unwin. My real name’s Gary, but… Gary’s a prick.”

Harry chuckles, standing from the couch and walking towards the mirror. Eggsy had known they were at a distance from one another, but as good as Harry looked from a distance, he looks even more stunning close up.

“Eggsy,” Harry says, the warm timber of his voice causing chillbumps to rise on Eggsy’s skin, “Might I be forward?”

“I think we stepped over that line last time we saw eachother,” Eggsy shrugs, “Go ahead.”

“Darling,” Harry speaks softly, book and glasses in one hand, the other in his pocket, “I would be a fool not to tell you that in my five decades, I’ve never seen a man more beautiful. Covered in bruises and blood and you still captivated me.”

Eggsy’s eyes widen.

“Now, if it /is/ alarming that a man my age would even attempt to flirt or say such things, know that it is only because it is the truth, and that it is not something I can keep to myself. If it bothers you, I won’t say it again. But I had to at least say it once.”

“You don’t mean any o’ that-”

“Pull the other leg, love.”

Eggsy blushes horridly then, looking away. God, how was he going to handle this guy?

“Don’t pretend you aren’t aware of it.”

“No, I’m…” Eggsy looks at him again, “I mean, of course I kinda know I’m attractive. But ‘oo talks like that to people? ‘Oo says those kinds of things?”

“Me, I suppose.”

Eggsy smiles slowly, “Age don’t bother me, mate. Though, I ‘ad you pegged as early forties.”

“Hardly,” Harry says, “Mid-fifties.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s the truth.”

“You don’t look like nobody’s grandpa.”

“Probably because I’m not.”

Eggsy stops, brows up on his head, “Oh… okay, well, yeah, I… I guess. But still.”

“I appreciate your appreciation, Eggsy,” Harry says then, smiling, “I do hope you get sleep at some point tonight.”

There’s something about hearing his name on the other man’s lips.

“Night, Harry.”

“Good night, Eggsy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of this fic is already fully posted elsewhere. For full releases at once, check out my tumblr @ Cammerel!


	4. Chapter 4

Eggsy doesn’t uncover the mirror in the bathroom just to talk to Harry. He uncovers it because it’s been annoying not being able to see himself in it when he needs it. Instead, for Harry, he gets a small standing mirror for his bedside, just incase Harry wants to talk.

Which, as it turns out, is not all that often.

After the night in the park, it takes almost a full week before he sees Harry again.

“You’ve got a split lip.”

Eggsy looks up from his book and into the mirror to see Harry fixing his tie.

“Observant one, you are.”

Harry tilts his head just slightly, “Is this your bedroom?”

“/Really/ observant.”

“I’ve seen you in two bathrooms and one park,” Harry tells him, lifting a brow.

Eggsy turns on his stomach, shifting closer to the mirror to get a better look at Harry. He hasn’t seen this location himself, “This isn’t yer home.”

“No, it’s not.”

“That’s the only place I’ve seen you in,” Eggsy frowns, “You been okay?”

“Busy,” Harry says vaguely, “Terribly sorry about that, I meant to see you sooner. My job, however, is quite a confidential one. And sometimes the background for a mirror reveals more than I can risk.”

Eggsy nods slowly, what the hell was this guy? Special Ops? Nah, more likely he was some kind of doctor. Harry had ‘doctor’ written all over him.

“Thinking loudly.”

“Sorry,” Eggsy blushes, ducking his head, “Just tryin’ to figure out what you do for a livin’.”

“Good luck.”

Eggsy shrugs, “Either way, you look damn good. You dressin’ up or down?”

“Up,” Harry responds and then he’s moving, using what must be a hand held mirror to bring Eggsy along with him, “I’ve got a formal gathering of sorts to get to tonight.”

“Goin’ on a date?”

“Far from it.”

“Social event?”

“Of sorts.”

“Ye of few words.”

“Ye of… facial wounds,” Harry teases, “Who caused this one?”

Eggsy lifts a brow, “Yer mighty curious.”

Harry meets his eyes then, “Was it the man you called ‘Dean’?”

“Guessed it in one, I’m impressed,” Eggsy chuckles.

“Who is he to you?”

“Step dad,” Eggsy explains, “A right prick. Literally one of the worst people on the planet. But he pays fer a lot of things, so… I’d rather ‘e beat me than my mum… or my sis.”

Harry’s eyes widen, “But she’s three years old.”

“Believe it or not, that don’t stop some people,” Eggsy growls out, “‘e’s come close a few times.”

“I’m not overly fond of your living situation, Eggsy.”

“You an’ me both.”

“I’m afraid I’m not joking.”

Eggsy drops his head onto his arms, finally giving up on trying to read or study until Harry can’t speak with him anymore, “Yeah, that makes two of us. But I don’t got much choice.”

“What if I-”

“‘Arry,” Eggsy stares at him, “Much as I can tell yer loaded, a man’s gotta stand on ‘is own, otherwise ‘e’ll never walk on ‘is own.”

“Fair enough,” Harry folds, smiling at him, “Beautiful, kind-hearted, /and/ brave. My Eggsy, you impress and inspire me the more I speak with you.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes, “Such a romantic old man.”

“Indeed.”

And then Harry proceeds to stare at him in that fond, lovestruck way he had a week ago.

Eggsy stares back, insistent on being silent to see how long it takes to unnerve Harry. But the man doesn’t lose it for a second.

“One moment, if you would,” Harry mutters and sets down the mirror to put in his cufflinks. Eggsy watches him lift a pant leg to pull his socks on and then he nearly chokes or bites his knuckle to stifle it when he sees the thick, flexed calves and the sock garters.

/Well fuck./

He can’t even breathe until the pant leg is pulled back down and Harry puts on his shoes and ties them, then lifts the mirror.

“My dear boy, are you alright?”

Eggsy shakes his head, then looks around himself, “Me? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re in pain.”

/You look like you’re the most fucking ridiculously hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life./

Harry laughs, crinkles forming around his eyes as he stares back at Eggsy, “Well-” Eggsy hadn’t even known he’d said that aloud, “-the feeling is mutual, love.”

“Sweet talker.”

“I’m not sure if that qualifies as an insult,” Harry responds quickly, “I fully embrace my hopeless romanticisms.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes, “Save it for someone that deserves it.”

“I have.”

Eggsy blushes furiously. Dammit, how is it that this man manages to make him act like a complete virgin?

“Can I start chargin’ you a quid a play?”

“You would be richer than Richmond Valentine by the end of the week.”

“Yer probably right.”

“Ah,” Harry turns from the mirror and then back, “Eggsy, I must apologize, that’s my taxi.”

“Go, ‘ave fun socializin’.”

Harry smiles warmly, “Not that you look like you need it, but you should get some sleep, darling.”

Eggsy waves his hand, “That’s a quid.”

“I’d give you all the quid in the world if it meant I could stay in tonight.”

“That’s another quid.”

Harry chuckles and sets down the mirror, “I’ll try to talk to you soon.”

“Oh my gawd, you hopeless geezer, go. Before you miss yer taxi,” Eggsy stops when Harry turns away, “Oh, can you also walk slowly when you leave?”

Harry raises a brow, then pulls on his jacket and buttons it, throwing him a teasing look.

“Aww, come on,” Eggsy watches him go, folds his arms again and waits until the door closes before he sighs, “Fuck, I’m in deep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of this fic is already fully posted elsewhere. For full releases at once, check out my tumblr @ Cammerel!


	5. Chapter 5

“To the left again.”

Eggsy turns.

“Around once more.”

He starts to to it, then stops and glares at Harry, “Come on now, this is serious.”

“My apologies, I was wondering how long you would follow orders before you started questioning them.”

“Anyone ever tell you ‘ow frustrating y’are?”

“All the time.”

Eggsy smiles, then holds out his arms.

“You look good, as always,” Harry responds.

“That’s a quid.”

Harry holds up his index finger, “However, if I were speaking from glasses that are not so terribly rose-tinted?”

“Yeah?”

“Lose the hat.”

Eggsy frowns, “Why?”

“At least for an interview,” Harry tells him, “Nice as they are sometimes, going in without something covering your head will make you appear far more confident.”

“That why you always ‘ave an air about you?”

Harry nods shortly, “Naturally.”

Eggsy takes off his hat, frowning, “I… can’t really see wha’ my ‘air looks like right now.”

“A little here.”

Eggsy follows the motion, mirroring it.

“There you go, yes. Just-good.”

Harry stares at him adoringly.

“Okay, don’t make me start chargin’ fer looks too.”

“Forgive me,” Harry bows his head slightly, “Though I don’t forget your beauty, it does sometimes remove me.”

“Yup, that’s a quid.”

Harry smiles.

Eggsy turns when he hears Dean’s voice calling him from the other room and he looks back at Harry, waiting for the curt nod before leaving the room.

“Yeah, what you need?”

“Your mom needs you to run down to the shop.”

Eggsy frowns, “Wha’ for?”

“We’re out of milk again.”

“I’ve got an interview in ‘alf an hour.”

“Then you’ve got time to pick up some groceries.”

Eggsy shakes his head, “You do it, what’re you doin’?”

“Eggsy,” his mother says.

Dean narrows his eyes, “You’ve got time, boy, don’t talk to me like that.”

“I got an interview in thirty minutes an’ it’s a good walk away. I can’t go gettin’ you milk. You can wait.”

Eggsy walks back into his room, grabbing his wallet and his phone from the stand. He looks back at the mirror, “I gotta get go-” he stops when the door opens and nearly manages to duck out of the way when Dean reaches out and grabs him by his collar, “Get off!”

“‘Ave you any respect, Mugsy?”

“‘Ave you any brains?” Eggsy asks, then twists out of his grip, turning to try and get away again when the fist clocks him hard in the jaw.

He flies back, using the momentum to push out the window and hoist himself out.

And then he runs for it.

Less then a block away, he goes into a small side shop, into the bathroom, and sighs when he sees Harry instead of his reflection. He should’ve expected as much, but he really needs to see the damage.

“Ah, fuck, sorry.”

“Eggsy-”

“Let’s not talk about it, okay? Already embarrassin’ as it is.”

Harry nods, ever the gentleman.

“Is it bad?”

“Your jaw?”

Eggsy nods.

“Not yet,” Harry tells him, “It’s a little red, darling. Fix your shirt.”

Eggsy reaches up, realizing it’s still rumpled where he was grabbed and he tries to straighten it as much as he can, “That bet’uh?”

“Much,” Harry responds, finally sitting back in his seat, “We’ll talk when you get back, you’re running late. Go on.”

Eggsy stares at him once more and then leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For full releases at once, check out my tumblr @ Cammerel!


	6. Chapter 6

He’s not sure how the interview goes, but he stops by a nearby shop and yet another bathroom to see Harry again afterwards. He leans back against the wall, gingerly touching his jaw.

“Eggsy.”

He looks back up to the mirror.

“I wish to see you in person.”

Eggsy glances around, “What, you mean… you mean..?”

“Yes.”

He lets out a deep huff of air and steps over to the toilet, sitting on the seat of it and looking at Harry.

“You have every right to decline, of course.”

Eggsy stares at him, at his perfect hair, his perfect /face/, his warm eyes, his refined everything. God, if he meets Harry, he might actually melt into a puddle of nothing. He might actually fall completely heels over heart, if he hasn’t already.

But he wants to.

“Okay.”

Harry smiles warmly, “As it seems you are currently avoiding your home, would you like to come to me or shall we agree to meet elsewhere?”

“Nah, I’ll come there, ‘f that’s alright.”

The last thing he wanted to do was make a complete fool of himself in a public location.

“Alright, at least allow me to have a taxi sent to you.”

Eggsy blushes, but nods, “Yeah, sure.”

The taxi arrives shortly thereafter and Eggsy climbs in, glancing around it curiously. It looks like any other old taxi, but it certainly doesn’t /smell/ like one.

“Er, did ‘e give you the address?”

“Mr. Hart did,” the driver confirms, already making his way through traffic.

Eggsy sits, quiet and nervous, checking his jaw every few minutes or so. He can’t help but glance out the window as their surroundings change drastically. He should’ve prepared himself better. At least he looks… well, better than he usually does.

/But really./

He knew he was going to look like a fish out of water, but he /really/ wasn’t expecting to become immediately surrounded by everything he’s not, and most likely never will be.

Then his eyes meet Harry’s, the gorgeous man standing on the second floor balcony sipping some kind of posh drink, no doubt.

He climbs out once Harry’s inside, walking up to the door and then walking back, but frowning when he sees the taxi turning out. Of course Harry would’ve paid for it already.

“Eggsy?”

He turns around, then makes his way back to the door, and Harry.

And then he stops and stares up at the older man, “Ah fuck, yer tall.”

Harry smiles warmly, stepping aside for him and Eggsy feels a hand drop to his lower back to guide him. /Fuck, fuck, fuck./

He looks around the inside of the house, not surprised at… well, most of it.

Hands cup his jaw suddenly and Eggsy looks up again when Harry moves into his field of vision.

“Of course yer a tactile old man,” Eggsy says and smiles, his hands nervously reaching out and touching Harry’s hips.

“Is it presumptuous to say ‘you’ll get used to it’?”

Eggsy leans into the touch and shakes his head, “Nah.”

“Oh, good.”

“Find anything I didn’t?”

Harry continues to search his face for a moment longer, “One thing, I suppose.”

“Wha-”

Eggsy stops when their lips meet and he lets out a soft, broken whimper, dropping against Harry, his body bowing back and his left foot lifting. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until it’s done.

Harry pulls back at last, staring at him again.

“You made me pop a heel like a bloody damsel.”

“Your heel did what, now?”

“Also, I believe that’s another quid.”

Harry smiles so wide then that Eggsy almost has to look away. God, how can a man be so handsome? How can he really exist?

And then he pulls away from Eggsy, reaches into his pocket, and takes a few coins out. He turns to a small glass jar on the counter just inside the living room.

“‘You look good, as always’, ‘I don’t forget your beauty, it does sometimes remove me’, and… my reference to finding a kiss on your lips?”

“That’s right,” Eggsy chuckles and then stops when he realizes what’s just happened, “Wait, you’re actually keepin’ count?”

Harry stands back upright once the pounds have been deposited, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging, “I felt if anything, it would be amusing to see how fast it would add up.”

“‘Ow much is it already?”

“About forty-... nine quid?” Harry guesses, “Somewhere around there.”

“Almost already reached your age.”

“Just a matter of time.”

Eggsy chuckles, “I didn’t think you would actually take that wimpey threat to ‘eart.”

“Now that you’re here, I feel I should offer tea,” Harry says then, “Dinner, perhaps?”

“You tryin’ to sneak a date in on me?”

Harry’s eyes warm evermore, “Is it working?”

“Brilliantly.”

“Hungry?”

“Starvin’.”

“Good, beautiful as you are, I delight in the thought of putting together a proper meal for you.”

Eggsy huffs and nudges him, “That’s a quid.”

“Think I won’t reach my age tonight?” Harry asks, tone playful.

“Try the next hour.”

“I’m not that bad about it, am I? Perhaps you’re overestimating-”

“Doubt it.”

Harry takes the apron from it’s hangar to tie it on and Eggsy nearly swallows his tongue.

“Fuckin’ hell, Harry. Warn a guy next time.”

Harry looks up to him, pausing in the act of tying the bow behind his back, “Warn you? That I’m putting on an apron?”

“That you exist, really.”

“Might we start a jar for you as well?”

Eggsy moves in, standing up on his toes and pulling Harry down to meet him, “S’long as yer the one putting the quid in the sweet jars. This bloke don’t really got the quid to spare.”

Harry kisses him, one hand cradling his head.

He’s sort of lightheaded when he pulls back, staring up at the older man.

“Sweet jars,” Harry considers, his thumb brushing along Eggsy’s bottom lip, then he chuckles, “Not a bad name for them, I suppose.”

Eggsy thought the looks Harry shared with him through the mirror were intense as it was, but this makes his knees buckle. He should’ve known that meeting Harry in person would result in this, but wasn’t it inevitable? Wasn’t it supposed to happen at some point?

How does he deserve this? He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Not this gorgeous man, this absolutely perfect human being standing in front of him.

Harry leans down to kiss him again, a few more times, each kiss stealing Eggsy’s breath until he’s numb in the toes and his cheeks are flushed with wants and needs.

“Ah,” Harry tsks when Eggsy’s hand moves around to grab his arse.

“Oh, come on now.”

“A little too early to be making such advances, don’t you think?”

Eggsy lifts his brows, smiling innocently and squeezing, “Wha’, ‘aven’t got the stamina to keep up?”

“Oh, I can assure you that stamina is not my problem, sweet boy,” Harry kisses him again, removing the hand from his arse.

“No?”

“Certainly not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, this was where this story ended. But it looks like there's actually more coming... wherps.
> 
> Fer full releases, including the rest of this where it's already posted, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to post yesterday, my bad! But here it is, and there most likely will be more of this but I'm keeping it marked complete because I make no promises with drabbles.

Eggsy tugs at the button on Harry’s jacket and finally turns his attention away from the movie, “You /ever/ dress down?”

Harry lifts a brow, “Not around company, surely.”

“I’m no’ just /any/ company, though,” Eggsy points out, eyes narrowing, “Yer not a never-nude, are ya?”

“Of course not,” Harry chuckles, “You’re not entirely dressed down either, now are you?”

Eggsy glances down at himself and shrugs, “No’ really. But you’ve seen me… in all sorts of states of undress,” he blushes, “I’ve never once seen you in anything short-sleeved.”

“I don’t really wear anything /with/ short-sleeves, not unless I’m tr-…” Harry cuts off, looking away, “At the gym.”

Eggsy’s brows shoot up, “You go to the gym?”

“Perhaps not in the way you might expect, but yes.”

“I ‘ave a thousand questions.”

“Of course you do.”

Eggsy shifts then, almost like a person trying to hold their bladder, then he turns on the couch, pulling up his knees, “Can we at /least/ kiss?”

Harry turns his full attention to Eggsy and smiles, “Getting impatient?”

“I /been/ impatient fer weeks now. I’m borderin’ on combustion.”

“Well, we certainly can’t have that, can we?”

Eggsy starts to complain when Harry leans in to kiss him and he immediately drops, shoulders slumping as he leans in and lets out an uncharacteristic moan.

It’s almost as though Harry has quelled the flames, at least for now.

He reaches out, clutching the jacket, climbing into Harry’s lap.

As they get into it, his hand drops down to palm the crotch of Harry’s trousers, but he’s stopped before he even gets to the buckle.

“Oh come on, give it up.”

“Patience.”

“No.”

Harry cups his cheek and kisses him a few more times, “Now is hardly the time, Eggsy.”

Eggsy sighs and puts his elbows on Harry’s shoulders, staring into his eyes, “Yeah, alright. But I ain’t often asked to take this sort of thing slow.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know.”

Eggsy smiles then, kissing Harry’s chin, “Yer lucky I like you.”

Harry smiles back, eyes sharpening, “Anything else I can do to help?”

Eggsy purses his lip, then he nods, “Kiss me?” but then he elaborates when Harry starts to lean in. He tilts his head, drawing a finger down the side of his neck, “Here.”

“Is that what you want?”

“A mark or two,” Eggsy tells him, “That might help, yeah.”

Harry hums lowly, the grip on Eggsy’s waist tightening, “I think we can do that much,” he says, tone heavy and warm against Eggsy’s neck.

* * *

Harry disappears for days sometimes.

He normally warns Eggsy that it’s going to happen, but it doesn’t make it any easier being away from his soulmate.

Often Eggsy finds himself stopping by the mirror in the bathroom at his work, or laying in front of the one in his bedroom, waiting and hoping to even catch a glimpse.

Initially, he hadn’t been into the whole ‘soulmate’ thing. Why would someone want him? How would they ever understand what he was going through? But Harry has seen him at his absolute worst and not looked away for a second, not pretended that it didn’t happen.

He didn’t complain that Eggsy still, sometimes, sold himself when he needed to. Bills weren’t going to suddenly go away and they’ve had the conversation already of Harry wanting to pitch in, or offer up /any/ kind of assistance with bills.

Maybe one day.

But Eggsy has far too much pride to push it all back and let Harry assist him just yet.

Seems that the universe is getting something right with all this soulmate business, if that’s what gifted him with Harry as a life partner.

He sits at the bar, hunched over, sipping his beer when he feels a hand move in on his leg, curling inward and gripping onto his jeans.

“You selling?”

Eggsy lifts a brow and looks at him, gaze dropping over him and then he narrows his eyes, “This ain’t Smith Street.”

“I’ve seen you there,” the man says, leaning in, “Haven’t seen you around lately.”

“Then maybe you missed yer chance, eh, bruv?”

“I’ll double your charge.”

Eggsy turns, hands off his beer, “Double? … Why?”

“Let’s just say you look the right kinda way.”

Which was the guy’s way of telling Eggsy that either he had standards, or he was attracted to a relative, and Eggsy was close in appearance. Either way, double the pay didn’t sound half bad.

And it’s not like he really had much else to do tonight, might as well get some action.

“What’re you interested in?”

* * *

He had stopped halfway through the bedroom door when he saw the large mirror at the head of the bed, but then the man started begging for him and offering to triple the price, and Eggsy couldn’t say ‘no’. It’s been three days, and this was probably going to be a short fuck, so he might as well…

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” the man moans and Eggsy pushes him back down, chest flat on the mattress, arse in the air.

It isn’t often he gets to pitch, so he allows himself to really enjoy it for once. His hands grip the trembling man’s hips, drawing him back into each thrust. He’s halfway there when the mirror changes before him.

Instinct kicks in and he almost stops entirely, covers himself, reaches for something, anything. Hips stammering when he sees the briefcase, and then Harry setting it down before stopping his own ministrations when he looks up and their gazes lock.

Eggsy half expects to see anger or disgust, for Harry to shout at him.

But the sharply dressed man smirks and lifts a brow instead, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself.”

“Fuck, yes. Baby, yes!”

“Fuck,” Eggsy mutters, cheeks heating as he continues to move, eyes wide.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

“Mm… hm, yeah,” Eggsy agrees, glancing down when the guy cums all over his sheets, whimpering, the sounds growing louder from sensitivity when Eggsy doesn’t ease off.

He looks back up at Harry, taking in his hair - which is about the most disheveled he’s ever seen it before (though that isn’t really saying much, all things considered) - the crisp tightness of his jacket, the… /is that blood?/

Eggsy opens his mouth to ask if he’s okay, if he’s been hurt or attacked, when the door behind Harry opens.

He turns from Eggsy, reaching up into his jacket and producing a pistol. The stranger at the door flies backward before he has the chance to focus his own weapon, hitting the frame and dropping down into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck,” Eggsy hisses, eyes going wider, cock twitching as his grip tightens.

The man beneath him rocks back, “Oh, fuck, that’s nice,” he slurs.

Harry sighs and turns back to Eggsy, “Sorry, darling,” he says, smiling weakly, “Guess I have a few things to explain.”

Eggsy watches as Harry pulls his jacket open and sheathes the pistol back in his shoulder holster. And then he cums harder than he probably has in his entire life.

His mouth drops, haggard breaths escaping as he pulls back and takes off the condom, tying it closed and shoving it back in the condom wrapper.

“I’m so sorry, my dear boy.”

Eggsy looks back up at Harry, at his saddened eyes, and he can’t even imagine why /Harry/ is the one apologizing, “I have a /thousand/ questions,” he says as he pushes his mess of bangs from his forehead.

“I expect you do.”

“What?” the man asks from where he’s collapsed on the mattress, looking at Eggsy in confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For other full releases and more early work, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel.


	8. Chapter 8

Despite them having talked about it, and everything between them being completely crystal clear about Eggsy being… active… he still feels the hangman’s noose tighten around his neck when he receives the text from Harry that he’ll be back in London tonight.

They agree to meet for dinner.

And then Eggsy spends the /entire/ day with his arse muscles clenched and his heart racing at any sudden sound.

The walk from the taxi to the front door feels like the walk one makes to the gallows.

Harry answers the door, still dressed to the fucking nines like he /wants/ to make Eggsy feel worse, but his open expression eases back some of the dread that had settled in.

“Oh come now, why are you looking at me like that, darling boy?”

Eggsy shifts his feet nervously, “I…”

“Get in, will you?” Harry moves out of the way and guides him inside, “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to cook, so I’ve ordered some take away.”

“Ya, alright.”

Harry stops as he closes the door behind Eggsy, “Ah,” he says, as if suddenly realizing why Eggsy’s so tense, “No… need to be afraid of me, Eggsy. I would never harm you, not a hair on your head.”

Eggsy frowns, lips twisting in confusion.

“Okay, I… are you honestly goin’ to just… /ignore/ what you caught /me/ doing?”

Harry blinks at him and then chuckles gently, “I’ll admit I was a little surprised at catching you naked as the day you were born, with an unknown man completely at your mercy, but it was not in flagrante.”

“But-”

“Do you think I should shame you?” Harry asks, eyes narrowing, “Scold you, like you’ve done something wrong? Belittle you? You’re an adult, and we had a very adult conversation about this some time ago.”

Eggsy blushes and looks away, then down.

“Do you /want/ me to?” Harry asks then, his tone lower.

“I… maybe just a little?” Eggsy says and shrugs.

Harry touches his chin, lifting it to look him in the eyes, “Being angry and making you feel bad about yourself isn’t the way that /I/ show affection.”

Eggsy sighs, but nods as he stares up into Harry’s warm gaze.

“Would you like to see how I /do/ show affection?”

Eggsy swallows tightly, but nods again.

Harry’s hands lift to take his, kissing his fingers before cupping his cheeks.

His head swirls when Harry kisses his forehead, one hand moving to cradle the back of his head. Then he kisses his temple, his brow, his cheekbone, down to his jaw, to his chin, and then his lips.

Eggsy’s eyes flutter closed, his fists curling the hem of Harry’s jacket, then pawing up shortly after. He tries to grab on when Harry’s palm presses to the center of his chest and guides him back to the doorframe of the kitchen.

And then Harry brushes their noses together.

“Good so far?”

Eggsy nods and swallows, “Ya… good,” he mutters, nearly swallowing his tongue when Harry’s eyes open and look at him, searching his own.

“Are you comfortable with a slight change of pace?”

“Change of pace?”

“I feel as though I should be thorough.”

“Thorough?”

Harry smiles warmly, “I don’t believe I can have you leaving with any doubts, now can I?”

“Uhm… change of pace?” Eggsy’s brows lift, “Sure… g-go ahead… b-be thorough.” Apparently he was reduced to a stuttering virgin.

But if it were bad then, it’s nothing compared to seeing Harry, in his full suit - jacket, tie, and all - drop down to his knees in front of Eggsy. Something tells him that this is going to awaken something in him.

“Y-you don’t have to-t-…. to…”

“On the contrary, darling, I would be absolutely /delighted/ to suck your cock.”

“Fuck me, Harry.”

“Perhaps another time.”

Eggsy chuckles, feeling dumbstruck and drunk with it as Harry unbuttons and unzips his jeans.

He’s practically done in the second Harry wraps those gorgeous lips around his cock, but Eggsy manages to stave the orgasm off for a few minutes. Minutes that he spends moaning obscenely and resisting the urge to mess up Harry’s hair.

He wants to, but he also wants to see if Harry can come off his dick still looking like he did before he sank down.

Harry’s back on his feet afterwards, helping Eggsy into his pants and then tugging the hem of his jacket down to straighten it properly, “Now, about the part where you saw me shoot a man in the head.”

Eggsy tenses, “Just tell me you ain’t some kind of career criminal or drug lord.”

“No,” Hary chuckles, hands in his pockets, “Although you do certainly have quite the imagination.”

“Ya, well,” Eggsy shrugs.

“I’m a spy, actually.”

Eggsy’s eyes widen, heart freezing in his chest, “Shut up.”

Harry’s smile grows and he tilts his head with a lifted brow.

Eggsy stares at him, hands reaching out suddenly and sliding around, down and down to grab his arse as he presses their bodies together, “Really?”

“Yes,” Harry responds, seemingly as calm as usual.

“Can I show /my/ affections?”

“That’s not nece-”

Harry stops when Eggsy grips his arse even tighter, moving one hand around to the front and palming his cock through his trousers.

“On the contrary, guv, it is. It /really/ is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 has been up and posted elsewhere since October.
> 
> This and many other Hartwin fics and shorts and one-shots have already been posted elsewhere for quite some time, and some won't ever be put up here. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel for more information on where to find them.


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